


Sod's law

by ticoyuu



Series: the m in multiverse stands for mecha (original) [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Codependency, Fluff, Fridge Horror, Fridge Logic, Idiots in Love, M/M, POV Second Person, ambiguously sci-fi setting, strike teams?? kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 08:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21352954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticoyuu/pseuds/ticoyuu
Summary: Two pairs, two festivals, two points in time; one place and four blind mice.(questionably a case fic??)
Relationships: Original Male Character & Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: the m in multiverse stands for mecha (original) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573129





	Sod's law

**Author's Note:**

> more OC stuff... written for a halloween contest with the prompt "fall festival with something Not Quite Right happening"  
rated t for jay's rampant potty mouth sikldgdjshfsdh
> 
> fridge horror is tagged as a precaution, but like most of the fic, its only implied. i. i guess thats 'fridge' itself tho?? damn i need to eat dinner KSGHhFsd

_-_

_November 1, 792 A.R._

_04:10_

_-_

Your name is Uther. (Before you were born, they called you _Morgana_, and said your first cries were lost in the sound of a tumultuous snowfall.)

(Your partner's name is Tiery- his id is _Myrddin. _He might be a little younger than you, but not by much. He's smaller; his unique stem cells have yet to differentiate.)

You are eighteen and the physical proof of your identity is starting to show; dark patches blooming on snow-white innocence. 

  
(Genetic apotheosis is your core, right down to the individual cells.)  
  


You don't have a birthday. Instead, Tiery and you have this _thing_ between the two of you, when you met for the first time as tiny, unsteady children- birthdays are a milestone for normal people. The two of you have a first meeting-day; an anniversary of your first mission as a pair; the day your guardians' enemies learned to fear _Eclipse_\- Tiery, and you- 

-and today will mark another of your first milestones- a lovely, soft one at the new gazebo in the park- to a backdrop of warm autumn hues. Surely it's okay to consider it one of those _festival dates_ you've heard of.

It's a scout-or-neutralize mission; you know what you're looking out for- some _phenomenon_ that has been vanishing people, objects... light, sound,_ matter_ around this time of year, for a long time. 

It's still pretty vague... but you're only worried if Ti is.

Whatever it is seems to hibernate (or alternatively, appear?) pseudo-randomly: you're told this is the first time it's been active since roughly 110 years ago.

(You know there have been several _id _pairs before _eclipse_\- scattered roughly throughout the past two centuries or so- but you _know_ they all had issues, and you _know_ they'd all died young.

\--You _know_ you and Tiery will be different.)

_Eclipse_ will deploy in twenty minutes. 

=====

_-_

_October 31, 660 A.R._

_18:30_

-

"Jay! JOHANN!" 

  
\--Tou has too much goddamn energy. He always has and probably will right up to his dying day. You'd _like _to yell back at him to shut up, but one of you needs to be an adult. 

(Even if you're both just nineteen with barely complete _id_s; with the work you do you're careful to ensure that _dying day_ comes when it should, and no sooner.)   


The familiar black and red figure trots up to you, feet scuffing up the dirt. The sun is glaring off those triangular metal wires attached to his ever-present headset, right into your eyes.

("They're _cute!"_

_"They're a liability."_

"Fuck you, your sense of romance is the only liability here."

...Yeah, you've given up on that.)

Today, your assigned missive brings your pair to an all-day local fall event. The sun is beginning to shatter on the horizon, and warm reds spill over the evening sky. 

(_The land is vibrant and cast in tou's colors_. ...You shelve that thought for later.)  
  


"We're not here to have fun." You state, eyeing the candied apple and multiple other festive snacks he's carrying. 

But the next thing you know, his silhouette frizzes- split-second; unnoticeable to a casual observer- and that apple is squished to your cheek, unpleasantly sticky. Tou looks mildly guilty but mostly amused.

(Tou is fast, and he's slippery. the immaterial, _slipping through _is a quality written in his DNA. You really wish he wouldn't misuse such a cool skill like this.)  
  


He protests, "I was trying for your mouth!" 

"Why are you trying at all?!" It's easy to slip into the familiar argument.

An elderly auntie walks by and comments loudly to the taller woman escorting her: "Oh my, aren't they adorable..?" 

("Mom, you know with your hip _please _watch where you're going-"

"Your father proposed to me here long ago. Did you know that this fair has been a tradition for over fifty years?"  
At that the daughter pauses. "Yeah," she says, sounding almost wistful, "what a shame they'll tear it down after this year...")

As the pair ambles away, Tou doesn't even have the decency to blush. Though it's fair, you guess, 'cause you don't either. 

"We are NOT here on a date," you grumble, once the two are out of earshot.

"No reason we can't make it one!" Tou counters cheerfully, entirely too unconcerned.  


Your better judgment protests- _as it should-_ but this really is starting to feel like a date that a normal couple would go on. 

You turn away: "...Whatever." 

  
Tou actually seems shocked. ...But then he grabs you from behind around the middle and starts rubbing his cheek aggressively on your shoulder. 

"Awesomeee!" 

"OW _STOP_ THAT you fuck, your headset-"

He's really! Really- too damn energetic. You settle for shoving his face with your chilly palm and like a _responsible adult,_ reiterate your _housekeeping_. ...Damn, _Ulfhedinn_ has gotten mad sidetracked.

"When we find _it_, we--?"

"Wish 'em a happy fall fest."

You grab the cheeky bastard's face in one hand squish it into a fish face.

"Convergence point is--?"

"Yehs, ah 'ot it, 'ose group o' shtreess on'a hill we 'ame shwoo."

  
(Barely passable, but you're satisfied with Tou's _Yes, I got it, those group of trees on the hill we came through.)_

  
...Tou sticks his tongue out at you once he's freed.

=====

_-_

_November 1, 792 A.R._

_06:30_

-

Tiery's got his regular prosthetic attached today, since none of his blade- or gun-arms are even remotely inconspicuous. 

(He named them. Tiery has an unexpectedly wicked sense of humor- it's one of the things you love most about him. _This_, you must admit... is kinda groan-worthy, though.)

The two of you aren't expecting to have to engage anything here, but because it's better than nothing, he'd modded a small blade, a little shorter than his forearm, to sheathe along- _inside-_ the side of his mechanical arm's elbow to wrist. 

\--Tiery always prefers to remain far, _far_ on the safe side. Which is fair, honestly- it was unpreparedness that had cost him his biological arm in the first place. They had been twelve; young and stupid.

(He'd chosen one styled like a vintage boxcutter, because for one, it's easier to pass off as a normal carried item, and two, a better shape for the size it needs to be. 

Plus, it's quite handy- even if you're a little iffy about the way he was using it to skewer fruit slices earlier. It slid right back inside afterwards.

"Think I'll work on this more sometime," he comments, "Hadn't expected it but... 's kinda fun."

He says that like he hasn't _already_ been working on it for weeks. 

...Now that you think about it, isn't his entire arm now a 'vintage boxcutter'? You know Tiery likes to build; it's kind of his thing. As for you, you're... aware of your own shortcomings.)

\-----

You both arrived about two hours ago. It's nearly winter, so the sun hasn't crept a single ray over the horizon yet. People have been arriving- some had gotten here even before you- and the tents they raise under artificial lighting cast long, dark shadows in the quiet morning.

Tiery had slipped off immediately, businesslike as usual, leaving you to find the highest spot within the fair's perimeter and set up.

("Times have changed. We- our tech- has also got to change," your guardian said about a month ago, noting the way Tiery's eyes shone with interest, "you'll get to play with it later."

  
"..."

"You still with us, Uther?" 

In all honesty, no. Not at all. The only z-particles you've been catching are the kind of _zzz_'s that haven't changed since the beginning of time. You sit up straighter and try not to tap your feet and your guardian gives an amused sigh. 

Tiery just snickers into his sleeve.

\--It's not really an issue, since Tiery is the mechanical mind in your pair. They don't bother waking you up again and when you finally snap awake it's to Tiery, hip checking to your feet and out of the meeting room.)

\-----

Your feet take you to the fairground's outskirts. Tucking yourself and Tiery's bulky equipment in the lee of a stand of trees older than both of you put together, you busy yourself following his instructions. 

There's several deep- very deep, vertical slashes scored into the trunk to your back, and some more crossing them at random angles. Three giant knots dot the gnarled bark in a rough triangle, where it looks like something was carved out ages ago and healed over time.

Weird, but of no importance, since whatever it was is clearly ancient history. 

  
(It still kinda unsettles you to look at.)

Before long, the sky that stretches overhead-- seemingly endless; infinite; miles and miles of possibility-- goes from starry black and biting to hazy grey and cool. The wind, caressing your hair and blowing it in your face in turn, worries you- the conditions are a little less than ideal. 

Tiery's equipment itself will be fine in rain or snow, hell, it would probably be okay under fire for a couple seconds. (_And that's all Tiery will need._ you think, and smile fondly.) With that said, weather _does_ affect performance, so you do your best. It's survey equipment, portable to an extent; Tiery finds ideal locales for the array 'child' units and you park the calibrator 'parent' somewhere with ideal return conditions.

\--It's really very interesting, and also very much beyond you. All you're concerned with is waiting for the string of lights to flicker over in sequence from orange to blue, signifying successful links between child units.

("Why not red and green?"

"Blue's nicer."  
  


Tiery didn't elaborate.)

One, two, three... four goes dead for a moment before snapping to solid blue, quickly followed by the fifth. There are nine child units total, plus the receiver-slash-calibrator that you're tasked with, for a total of ten units. 

When all ten lights are stable, they dim before shutting off, the calibrator's job done, as a low voice crackles right by your ear: 

"Meet me at th' cotton candy booth?"

You smile.   


"Sure," you say, "I can see it from here."

The headset rests around your neck as you walk off without a backwards glance. 

=====

_-_

_October 31, 660 A.R._

_20:40_

-

"Woah.... this is _lush_," Tou says, hands joined behind his neck. He cranes around you to gawk at the tall... _stick_\-- you can't think of any other way to describe it-- that a line of people are currently attempting to light up with a hammer strike. It seems the harder the blow at its base, the further the light shoots up its side. 

Besides you and Tou, there's some people with glowsticks and snacks gathered around to spectate.

In the five minutes you've been indulging Tou (_you_ aren't curious at all; no way), nobody has managed to light the bulb at the top. You have a feeling some will come close, but nobody will actually _win_. 

(As with the shooting booth you've been pointedly giving a mammoth-sized berth, and the cheap raffle, and... ugh. This evening has been a lot of:

_"The hell're you gonna do with a goldfish?"_

_"Heh, emergency rations."_

_"GIVE IT HERE."_

  
...etc. But honestly, despite yourself, you _are_ having fun. ...Also, _someone _had to free the poor critter; hopefully the next catcher is a normal kid who just wants a pet.

  
_"--I wasn't SERIOUS, honest!")_

\-----

Tou glances at you. You immediately snag his wrist and start walking.

  
"No." You don't look behind you, and you don't need to, to know he's fallen in step alongside.

...Albeit complaining all the way. (It's very Tou-like.)

"Look-"

"We're not here to play, damn it."

"Yeah, yeah..." He stops abruptly. With your fingers still wrapped around his wrist, you almost pitch backwards into him. Your asshole of a partner tosses his head back and laughs:

"Glad I can play with you whenever I want, then!"

Tou laces your fingers with his. Annoying as he can be, you wouldn't trade this for the world.

(You _must_ be maso, huh.)

\-----

The next place the two of you end up at flies a gaudy purple and white banner. It's surrounded by a sugary scent that's so dense it's almost tangible. It's a rather close call, but you catch yourself before sticking your tongue out to taste as if it's snowing. 

(Tou smirks in the corner of your eye.)

"Two please, auntie?" 

He ambles up by himself and you don't even _try_ to stop from rolling your eyes. Tou blinks cutely, voice as soft and sugary as the cones of spun glucose the lady sticks into his outstretched hands. He leans in to the cotton candy seller and whispers something in her ear that makes her giggle, motherly face creasing in a smile.

You take a step back before there's a repeat of the candy apple incident. Shameless... he's so...

(Tou is clearly mouthing _he's shy._ The lady swats him on the back with a laugh and pushes him towards you, ignoring the vaguely exaggerated fumbling around in his many pockets.)

Tou sticks one in your face the moment he's within reach. (Thankfully, it's not _actually_ in your face this time.)

"You're utterly fuckin' shameless," you grouse. Having said that, it's not like you feel guilty for getting two free cotton candies out of Tou's shenanigans either.

"'Kay, but honestly, what are we even _doing_..." 

"I _know_ you weren't actually asleep during briefing, fucker."

"Yeah, yeah, c'mon, no reason we can't have a good time while we're at it."

"..."

"'n also, we stand out less like this."

That's... actually a valid point. So you concede it.

"...Fair 'nuff. _You_, not standing out, though? Hahaha." 

"....."

Teenage pride won't let you _not_ snipe back, though.

(Where you overthink things, Tou moves simply. it's one thing that makes you and him a perfect match.

\--Perfection in the way you synchronize as the unit _Ulfhedinn; _it's in the way Tou laughs and elbows you in the side while hidden by proximity and thick cold-weather jackets, and the way you tug him close to sample the blue on his cone. It's the way he just relaxes into you and the way that little gesture makes contentment spread through your veins.

Some voice in the back of your mind comments sarcastically: _Not here on a date, hm?_

The same voice tells you to take things more seriously: while it may just be a nutcase on the loose, serial disappearances are never to be taken lightly.

...You guys can handle it, though. Tou's right; life is short and you gotta have fun when you can. 

You lean your weight on Tou a little, and snicker affectionately when he stumbles in surprise.)

=====

_-_

_November 1, 792 A.R._

_07:44_

-

By the time you and Tiery finally meet up at the cotton candy booth-- it's not _your _fault you're bad at navigating, okay?-- and... it's not Ti's fault for getting distracted either, you suppose. 

("Felt _somethin'_ there." 

Tiery points to a wide, clear space; on the other end, but still close to the center. You see people bustling by, no doubt vendors hoping for a good spot.

\--He's right; when your eyes alight on that patch of earth, packed hard by countless feet over the fair's century-plus-long history, you feel _some_ kind of jolt.

Your vision dims momentarily, hazy lights swimming in a suddenly blurry landscape, and noise- a loud _whump-_ rattles in your ears-- just for a moment. When Ti glances at you curiously, you just shake your head in an attempt to shake it out of your brain.

You _cannot_ allow yourself to become distracted--!)

...Regardless of that, when you meet at the cotton candy booth, there's light enough to see by, but dark enough that the cast shadows still obscure Ti's features if he goes beyond arm's length. The wintry sun peeks above the horizon just enough to paint the fair's autumn colors slightly sallow, and the shadows that stretch out-- _connect_ out-- are long and fuzzy around the edges.

"It's close to eight right now." 

"Yes..."

"Y'know... maybe we _did_ come too early..."

Tiery's response is just a shrug.

(..._Ahh_, why are you even surprised?)

And then he smiles, and it's suddenly the most distracted you've been all morning. He's... oh, you're so lucky--

  
"..'nyway."

\--that _he_ is _yours_. _Eclipse's_.

"Sorry," you say, and let the fidgety shiver run through your whole frame before relaxing with a clearer head. "What?"

"'S not much to do right now. Wanna watch the sun come up?"

_Oh._ Was this planned? If so, how lovely... you're not even mad that Tiery and your- _Eclipse's_\- guardian did it without you. It's fine because you're kinda dumb anyway and you're not a leader. You don't make decisions.

(But Tiery does. And he wouldn't lead you both into danger.)

Really, it's better not to worry about things that aren't your duty. So you're content to kick your legs out and stretch your arms up with a yawn, feeling the tension in your core release just a little with the breath that escapes, visible in the rapidly brightening dawn.

It's cold. You just scoot closer, heedless of the inorganically hard shoulder pressed to yours.

"Nice, inn'it?" 

"Mm."

"Light clearin' outta darkness... 's like the opposite of an eclipse."

"Hey, if it's with you, I like being in the dark."

Tiery chuckles, the glance he sends at you inscrutable as always. The coolness of his prosthetic has already been replaced by the warmth radiating from your side and its uncompromising smoothness is kinda soothing.

His gaze, fixed at the sun already clear over the horizon, darts back to you for an instant. Ti looks like he's about to say something else, but changes his mind and hops to his feet instead. You take the offered hand, and your tiny partner pulls you up with surprising strength.

"C'mon," he says. "Show's about t' start."

**Author's Note:**

> me, without a wc limit: hahaha if i can get to 2k ill be happy  
me, with a 2.5k limit: [CRYING INTENSIFIES]
> 
> i ended up having to scrap the entire 2nd half due to wc limit and did the entire reroute today.. . . 4 hours before the deadline. . .. kSFHDhgshd
> 
> i get shit DONE when its like that tho 8'"""D
> 
> small side note, but i imagine that contraption ti and uther are setting up is some kind of entity(?) radar that works kinda like echolocation to map out and/or survey an area (wAVES MY HANDS AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT)
> 
> anyway all four of these fools are 1 corner of a p sprawling non-space opera scifi world. theres not a whole lot stated outright here, but im really curious what ppl conclude from it? i normally dont outright ask for comments/critique but. lies on my face o)-( pls.. GKSHDHfsdhf
> 
> additionally, the AR stands for after rebuild! this world is p heavy on (mostly garden variety-scifi) genetic tinkering
> 
> feel free to hmu on tw @ geckcellent /o/


End file.
